Hello all, this spring has been a challenging one for lots of folks in our circles.
It seems that far too many bones and hearts have been broken.
Perhaps it is the reality of getting older, as life seems to intensify with the years passed by. Or perhaps it’s just a tough season.
Regardless, perseverance seems pretty relevant right now.
Noun: steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success.
Steadfastness. The word itself reminds me of the lilacs and apple trees that were planted by our grandparents on these homesteads. Plants that push through really long, cold winters, and hard dirt, and they persevere, always.
And so we keep pushing too, onward and upward. Despite the difficulties, we get our work done, we take care of our families and our responsibilities, and hopefully we take care of ourselves too.
So go pick some lilacs for your kitchen table to remind us of our steadfastness.
Persevere. Onward and upward my friends!
This poem was just shared with me by a friend and mentor.
He said the Spanish version is even more beautiful. Enjoy.
Throw Yourself Like Seed
Shake off this sadness, and recover your spirit
sluggish you will never see the wheel of fate
that brushes your heel as it turns going by,
the man who wants to live is the man in whom life is abundant.
Now you are only giving food to that final pain
which is slowly winding you in the nets of death,
but to live is to work, and the only thing which lasts
is the work; start then, turn to the work.
Throw yourself like seed as you walk, and into your own field,
don’t turn your face for that would be to turn it to death,
and do not let the past weigh down your motion.
Leave what’s alive in the furrow, what’s dead in yourself,
for life does not move in the same way as a group of clouds;
from your work you will be able one day to gather yourself.
~ Miguel De Unamuno ~
(Roots and Wings, edited and translated by Robert Bly)
Soneto: LXV SIÉMBRATE!
Miguel de Unamuno
Sacude la tristeza y tu ánimo recobra,
no quieto mires de la fortuna la rueda
como gira al pasar rozando tu vereda
que á quien quiere vivir vida es lo que le sobra.
No haces sino nutrir esa mortal zozobra
que así en las redes del morir lento te enreda,
pues vivir es obrar y lo único que queda
la obra es; echa, pues, mano á la obra.
Ve sembrándote al paso y con tu propio arado
sin volver la vista que es volverla á la muerte,
y no á lo por andar sea peso lo andado.
En los surcos lo vivo, en tí deja lo inerte,
pues la vida no pasa al paso de un nublado;
de tus obras podrás un día recojerte.